


Cherry Wine

by magikali



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dean is a Sweetheart, Domestic Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-22 02:22:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13754259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magikali/pseuds/magikali
Summary: It started as just an insult thrown Cas’ way when he’d forgotten to buy milk, or do the dishes, but then the accusations started. That was when Cas showed up at his door the first night, still in his now rumpled work clothes, his eyes shining with fresh tears.That was six years ago. Things had gotten worse from there, lamps, dishes, wine bottles thrown against walls, but only barely missing Cas by a few inches. Dean would never forget the heartbroken look on Cas’ face three years ago when he told Dean that Amelia had shoved him into their coffee table, which, thank God, hadn’t been made out of glass, and only gave Cas a few scrapes from the broken wood. Scrapes which Dean had carefully bandaged.[Originally posted 2/21/18][Has been edited as of 3/16/18]





	Cherry Wine

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time ever posting something here and I wrote this really late at night and it isn't beta read, so it's kinda sucky, but I still liked it.
> 
> Update as of 3/16/18: I decided to go in and edit and revise it a bit, since I wasn't completely happy with how rushed it was. Funny story actually, I wrote the original version really late at night, so I was really tired, then today I decided I should go back and edit it, then forgot and took a sleep-aid, so I'm just as sleepy now, but I honestly think I improved the story, even just a little.

A glance at the alarm clock on Dean’s night stand tells him that it’s almost two a.m., and he relaxes back into his spot against his windowsill. He had opened his window just enough to let in the cool breeze and the clean, earthy smell of the rain as the drops pitter-patter against the glass.

He takes a deep breath in through his nose, and out through his mouth, trying to expel the uneasy feeling in his chest, though he knew it was futile. Things had been this way for years, and he knew all he had to do was wait. Soon, Cas would be at his door, he could feel it, no doubt without an umbrella, because he never remembered to grab one, on the run from his latest fight with Amelia.

Dean reaches behind him, and pulls his pillow to his chest at the thought of her. She and Cas had been together since their senior year of highschool, eight years in total. Cas had been enamored with her the moment he saw her, and never stopped talking about her. He was so happy when she said yes to a date, then to homecoming, then to prom. Cas never left out a detail when he would tell Dean about their dates, and Dean could do nothing but be happy for him for finding someone who made him so happy. For years, Dean wished he was in Amelia’s place, wished to be the source of those lovesick, gummy smiles.

Then, the fighting started. Well, Cas referred to them as fights, as some sort of mutual disagreement, but Dean new better. ‘Fights’ meant that Amelia had found a reason to yell at Cas, to call him names, to make him feel worthless. They started as just an insult thrown Cas’ way when he’d forgotten to buy milk, or do the dishes, but then the accusations started. That was when Cas showed up at his door the first night, still in his now rumpled work clothes, his eyes shining with fresh tears.

That was six years ago. Things had gotten worse from there, lamps, dishes, wine bottles thrown against walls, but only barely missing Cas by a few inches. Dean would never forget the heartbroken look on Cas’ face three years ago when he told Dean that Amelia had shoved him into their coffee table, which, thank God, hadn’t been made out of glass, and only gave Cas a few scrapes from the broken wood. Scrapes which Dean had carefully bandaged.

Dean moves to the edge of his messy bed, and stands, then tosses the pillow back on the mattress. He makes his way to his kitchen, getting himself a glass of water. He leans back against the kitchen island, sipping the water slowly. He thinks back to two years ago, when Cas showed up with the first of many bruises.

He remembers watching his best friend peel a sweaty t-shirt off, and reveal the beginnings of several bruises marring his torso, the darkening marks making his tan skin seem pale. He remembers grabbing his keys and starting towards the front door, fully prepared to pummel the bitch, girl or not. He remembers Cas grabbing him, begging him not to hurt her, saying over and over again how it was his fault, how he loved her, and how he knew she loved him too, saying that she apologized, she’d apologized for everything, and that this was the last time. He let Cas convince him, and things calmed down for a while.

Things were almost normal for a while. Actually normal, not the sick kind of normal they’d had where Dean was patching Cas up, holding him while he cried, and telling him that he didn’t deserve it and he needed to leave her, only for Cas to start saying that it was okay, that they loved each other. It should have been relieving, and probably was, to the neighbors, and Cas’ work friends, but Dean remembers what was really happening. Amelia would come home late, sometimes not at all, and would outright ignore Cas’ worried questions. Dean would get calls from a panicked Cas. He would listen to Cas’ worried rambling, and insist that he come over, because staying alone was doing nothing for his well being now, but Cas would just tell him that he needed to stay home, to wait for her, in case something happened. At least she’d stopped hitting him.

Dean moves out to his living room, and lays out on the old couch by the front door, the clock on the wall telling him it’s nearly three now. He closes his eyes and lets his mind wander back to six months ago, when Cas had showed up at his door, so drunk he could hardly stand, with bruises and blood on his face. When Dean walked him to the couch, he didn’t say anything, he just sat there, hunched forward, staring into nothing. The silence was broken when a cracked, humorless laugh bubbled up out of Cas’ chest. Dean rubbed Cas’ back as that laugh broke off into sobs, he pulled Cas into his chest when Cas’s breathing got erratic, and whispered soft words of comfort to him. He’d never forget the pain in his voice, sounding gravelly and unused, when he finally spoke:

“I don’t think I love her anymore.”

When he’d finally calmed down, he explained that Amelia told him she had been cheating on him, had outright spat it at his face, then she shoved him out the front door. He still went back to her the next morning, saying he was sorry he wasn't enough.

Cas stopped showing up at night after that. He still came to visit Dean, once or twice every few weeks, but he never spoke about what was happening with Amelia. Dean could see the way Cas limped, or favored his right side. Whenever he tried to bring it up, Cas would just smile, really smile, and change the topic. 

Dean rolls onto his side and pillows his head on his arm. He can feel a phantom tingle in his lips as a memory from almost two weeks ago, the last time Cas had come over, springs forward. 

Cas had shown up one afternoon, a smile on his face and as much spring in his step someone with a bruised hip could have. This time, when Dean brought up Amelia, Cas assured him he was fine, and this time, Dean could see he really believed it. Dean had brought his hand up to Cas’ face, the tips of his fingers resting on the sharp edge of Cas’ jaw, while the pad of his thumb traced the outline of a bruise on Cas’ cheekbone, his blood boiling despite his friends condolences. 

When Cas got up to leave, Dean walked him to the door, watching his friends uneven pace with pain in his green eyes. Cas had turned to face Dean just as he stepped out the door and hesitated a moment, before wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist, and pulling him into a tight embrace. Dean carefully wrapped his arms around Cas’ shoulders and buried his face in Cas’s neck.

“Please don’t go back to her, Cas”, Dean had practically begged. Cas just pulled away from him and looked into his eyes. 

"Don't worry about me, Dean," He leaned back into Dean’s space, and pressed his lips to Dean’s. Dean had frozen and, just before Cas went to pull away, pressed back into the kiss, his hands moving wrap around the back of Cas’ neck. Much too soon, the kiss was over and Cas stepped away from Dean, giving him a soft smile before turning to go to his car.

He hasn’t seen Cas since, and he has no reason to believe Cas is going to show tonight, other than a gut feeling. He sighs, and stretches out on the couch, not bothering to suppress a yawn. His eyes slowly slip closed, and he falls into a dreamless sleep.

What feels like five minutes later, but proves to have actually been an hour and a half, judging by the wall clock that says 4:30, he is roused awake by soft knocking on his front door. He pushes himself up and sleepily staggers to the door, but is shocked awake once he opens it and sees Cas standing there, more like swaying, a fresh bruise on one cheek, some scratches on the other, a split lip and his nose bleeding. He looks like he just got hit by a truck, but he’s standing there, smiling at Dean in nothing but a t-shirt and some faded bumblebee sleep pants.

“Cas! Holy shit,” Dean moves forward and carries more than helps Cas to the couch. He kneels between Cas’ legs and cradles his face, accessing the damage, unable to hide the rage his eyes, “What did she do to you?”

“It’s okay, Dean,” Cas says, still smiling, and wraps his hands around Dean’s wrists.

“No, it isn’t have you seen yourself,” Dean wipes some of the blood trailing down Cas’ chin away and growls, “I’m gonna fucking kill her.” Dean stands and hurries to the bathroom to get the first aid kit, when he comes back Cas is relaxed back into the couch, looking at Dean with a dopey expression. “She didn’t give you a concussion or anything did she?” Dean asks as he checks Cas’ nose first, happy to find that it isn’t broken.

“Nothing worse than a headache, I swear,” Cas says, taking Dean’s hand that isn’t setting aside bloody rags into his own and squeezing it.

"Tell that to your face," He gives the battered man's hand a reassuring squeeze. 

"Think you could kiss it better?" Cas looks at him with a lazy smirk and a twinkle in his eye that Dean hasn't seen in a long time. 

"I don't know, man, it's pretty gross," Dean makes a face of mock disgust and Cas rolls his eyes, "But I guess it's worth a shot," He leans in and places gentle kisses on the bandages on each side of Cas' face, then to his nose. He hesitates for a moment, his eyes flicking up to blue ones, before looking down at the other man's split lip and leans in, softly pressing his lips to Cas' cut one. He feels Cas flinch at the way his split lip stings, but when he opens his eyes, Cas has a content smile on his face. 

Dean traces one of Cas' bandaged cheekbones and sighs, “When I get my hands on that bitch-” Cas cuts Dean off with a kiss, smearing a little bit of blood on Dean’s mouth.

“No, Dean. It’s over. I left her. I did it,” Cas beams at him and Dean stares at him for a minute.

“You left her? When? How?” Dean pulls away and moves to sit beside him on the couch. 

"A little over two weeks ago, I was a the grocery store, and I ran into Jody," Cas explains. 

"Jody from Sioux Falls?" Dean's eyebrows raise. 

"That would be her yes," Cas smiled, " She just got transferred here, is our new Sheriff actually." 

"Shit, go Jody," Dean says, impressed. "Anyways, you were saying?" 

"Yes, right," Castiel clears his throat, " Well, I ran into her and we talked for a few minutes, and when we said goodbye, she gave me her number and told me to call her if I needed anything. She had this look on her face-" 

"Like she just knows something's up?" 

"Yes, that's it. I guess she saw some of my bruises." Cas takes a moment to gather his thoughts, "Well, a day or two went by and Amelia came home angry, I think she got passed over for a promotion or something, I don't really remember. So, she roughed me up, as was normal, but this time was worse. I thought she'd broken a rib or two, so as soon as she went to bed, I picked myself up and drove to the hospital. I was planning to call Jody afterwards, but when they tried to call my emergency contact, which is Amelia, I had to tell the doctor where my wounds came from, and he had someone call the sheriff's office." Castiel chuckles at a memory, "Jody was pissed I hadn't called her sooner." 

Dean rests his arm on the back of the couch, letting his fingers comb through Cas's messy hair, "And then?" 

Cas hums and leans back into the touch, "The doctor assured me nothing was broken, just bruised, and insisted I speak to Jody about my situation, which I did, for a while actually, she's oddly easy to speak to. She pushed me to press charges, and then let me crash on her couch for the rest of the night. I came to see you the next day." Cas looks at him with a smile, and a small blush graces both their cheeks at the memory of the kiss. 

"What happened in the two weeks I didn't see you?" Dean's voice is soft, but it's clear he has been worried. 

"Jody and I spent that time getting things together. It was mostly a lot of paperwork, I typed up several statements, and Jody took a few pictures of my abrasions, bruises, and scars. I would have come to see you, but everything stressed me out so much that when I wasn't working with Jody or trying to appease Amelia, I was sleeping." Castiel lays his head on Dean's shoulder. "We finally had everything we needed today, and Jody made the arrest a few hours ago." 

"Why so late?" Dean rests his chin on top of Castiel's head. 

"I wanted her to get caught in the act. Jody had an officer stationed a few blocks down, they were just waiting for my word. It took a little longer than it was supposed to, because, as you can see," Cas reaches up to barely touch his own cheek, "Amelia kept going for my face. It's a little hard to discreetly dial your phone when you're seeing double, but it worked out. Jody wanted to look at my face, and I told her I needed to come here, after I got my things." 

"What are you gonna do now?" Dean asks, afraid Cas is going to say something about leaving. 

"Well, I've got this best friend, who I've kind of had a thing for for a while now, and I was hoping he'd let me stay with him for a while," Cas lifts his head and looks at Dean with a half smile. 

"You two sound really close," Dean feigns jealousy. 

"Oh yeah, he kisses my boo boos better and everything," They break into laughter. 

When they calm down, Dean smiles at Cas and gives him a peck on the cheek, "'Course you can stay." 

"Thank you, Dean," Cas wraps his arms around Dean's waist and leans into him, and rests his head on Dean's shoulder when he feels the weight of Dean's arms around his back. Dean leans back onto the arm of the couch, laying them down, and they lapse into a comfortable silence, just enjoying each others presence. 

“I did it.” Cas says whispers proudly, breaking the silence, and buries his face in Dean's neck. Dean presses his lips to Cas' head.

“I’m so proud of you. You did it.” Dean mumbles into messy, dark hair, and they relax into the couch. Cas dozes on Deans chest, and just before he falls asleep, Dean has half a mind to reach up and shut the blinds, keeping out brightening light of the rising morning sun.


End file.
